


Apéritif

by sudowoodo



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Cannibalism, Claiming, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 03:16:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10453731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sudowoodo/pseuds/sudowoodo
Summary: It was a sharp pain, warm and wet, burning where it traced the shape of the doctor’s teeth. Will felt it rip through layers of the skin and muscle of his shoulder, then tear apart from him with searing agony that buckled his already weak knees and sent him crashing to the floor. Shaking, sweating, and gasping shallowly, he reached behind with disbelief and felt warm blood on his fingers. He turned to face Hannibal, his eyes wide and horrified.“Did you just bite me?” he asked in shock.“Difficult to avoid,” Hannibal defended quickly. “Your scent is absolutely divine.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be an omegaverse parody but it turned out very serious lol. Please enjoy! PLEASE review, or kudos, or anything, because I need praise or else I die. (Constructive criticism also welcome ofc)
> 
> I'm on Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/blog/loveyoutopiecesdistractionetc

“Good morning, W—“ 

Hannibal stopped. The rest of Will’s name came out of his mouth as a silent stutter, which he did his best to repress. He held the breath in his throat, knowing if he let it out he would need to inhale again, and he did not want to breathe in that scent.

Will was in heat. That was quite apparent; the aroma was overwhelming. Hannibal had a dedicated sense of smell, even for an Alpha. This was going to be interesting.

“Where’s Crawford?” asked Will, groggy but clearly annoyed. 

Hannibal coughed, and with that the last of his air was gone. He calmly held his breath, while reaching into his breast pocket and brandishing a handkerchief. He folded it, then brought it up to cover his mouth and nose. Will watched him with confused, unfocussed eyes, only slightly less twitchy than usual due to his apparent sleepiness. When Hannibal finally inhaled, he had to stop himself gasping. 

“Will,” he said, his voice tight but gentle, “are you aware that you are in heat?”

“Hm?” Will’s restless eyes narrowed. His brain was sluggish this morning, so the words only half-registered. He scratched his stomach absently, but withdrew his hand quickly with a shock. Although it was damp, it was not clammy with sweat from the previous night’s dreams as he had come to expect. He could feel his skin radiating heat beneath it. The doctor’s soft, deep voice finally reached him to full effect, eliciting a stirring in his abdomen which was in no way welcome at this time. _That_ sure would explain the extra fluid pooled between his cheeks right now. “Oh,” he said quickly. He glanced furtively at Hannibal, then blinked a few times as he failed to find a place to hold his gaze, and looked down at himself wide-eyed and mortified. “So I am …” 

Hannibal coughed again, and Will tried to subtly take a step behind the door to preserve the modesty his boxers in no way granted him. After a moment’s silence, he roved his eyes up the doctor’s form, stopping when their eyes met. 

Will had studied those eyes only briefly before: he had gone out of his way to do so after Hannibal’s little remark. _“Not fond of eye contact, are you?”_ Out of stubbornness he complied, if only to glare and prattle off his reasoning for avoiding it in the first place. Alphas always felt they deserved the attention of Omegas, and Will frequently found himself in spots of bother when he chose to avert his eyes rather than flutter his lashes and shake his hips in their presence. Hannibal had been gentleman-like in every way on that meeting, including an invasive sort of arrogance reserved only for Alphas. 

The eyes Will met that day were calm and full of confidence, but below the surface was the hunger of intrigue. He looked at Will as more the subject of a psychoanalytic study than an actual human being. 

Still, it was better than lust, which was how he was looking at Will now. Hannibal was quite obviously struggling between his overly courteous demeanour and his overwhelming yearning to fuck the Omega in front of him. Will almost couldn’t help but smile wryly to watch it. Alphas were supposedly the strongest, most intelligent, and most gracious of humans — and yet the were betrayed to carnal instincts by the mere whiff of an Omega in heat. 

Will couldn’t exactly blame him — he was not having such an easy time of it himself. He winced slightly, fighting the urge to unravel right in front of the man standing at the door of his motel room instead of turning him away. But he grit his teeth, grumbling as he turned back into the door. “I’ll have to take my meds, I’ll catch up with you in a few hours.”

“I can wait,” offered Hannibal, holding out his hand to stop the door shutting. Will blinked, and turned to stare at him incredulously. Hannibal’s face, no longer twisting with self-control, broke into a small, empathetic smile. “Suppressants should be taken with food, and I happen to have brought breakfast with me.” His eyes studied Will’s, his expression vaguely amused. “Perhaps some company will distract you as you wait for the medication to take effect.”

Will burst out in hysterical laughter. “Excuse my brashness, Doctor Lecter, but there’s only one thing I’ll be doing while I wait, and unless you’re interested in participating it’s better you go. I doubt you’ll be able to stand the effluvium.”

“I assure you, I have excellent self control,” Hannibal urged. “Or are you more worried about yourself?” Will raised his eyebrows, almost-offended, but mostly just amused. Hannibal smiled again, a smile which Will was horrified to discover he found extremely attractive. He needed some release — and _now_. “Your composure is quite extraordinary, Will. I would love to see you push yourself further in your restraint by forgoing this autoeroticism. May I come in?” 

Will continued to stare, but the idea did strike him as intriguing. He was hot, and hard, and wet, and wanted to fuck himself so desperately; he didn’t know if he’d even be able to stomach breakfast. To hold himself back now — in the presence of alpha, no less — would be purely masochistic. But … well, what could he say? He as kind of into it. 

He was still mulling it over when Hannibal’s voice returned, almost making him jump. “Do you delight in the discomfort of self-discipline, Will?” he asked, his voice a mesmerising monotone. “Do you like to suppress it, stall it, stretch it out and savour every ounce of it?”

Will’s breath was heavy, and it finally clicked. Hannibal _was_ planning to fuck him — but just not yet. “Sometimes …” he said, a little hoarsely, “sometimes I like to finish what I’m doing before allowing myself the release. Let it linger, you know. Sometimes I tease it out.” He laughed a little, feeling his face growing uncomfortably warm. “What about you?”

Hannibal’s lips twitched. “May I come in?”

Will swallowed, eyes searching the other man’s face heatedly. It was only half-grudgingly that he let him in.

Hannibal was chatty as they sat down to eat, talking about preparing his own food and protein scramble. He seemed in good spirits, despite how he breathed like he had just been jogging and his face was as flushed as Will’s. Will was vaguely amused by the situation, although he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to last in this game of heat chicken. There better be one hell of an orgasm waiting for him at the end of all this, or one hell of a cock. Fortunately, he wasn't against the idea of begging either.

“Mm, the food’s delicious, thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Hannibal’s gaze on him was so intense as he ate that Will imagined him flipping the table and pouncing on him. But he remained a statue, and turned to his lunch box eventually. “I would apologise for my analytical ambush, but I know I will soon be apologising again and you'll tire of that eventually, so I have to consider using apologies sparingly.”

“Just keep it professional.”

“Or we could socialise, like adults. God forbid we become friendly.”

Will swallowed the sausage in his mouth and lifted his cup to his lips. “I don’t find you that interesting,” he said offhandedly, taking a sip. “Even for an Alpha.”

Hannibal met his eyes in a solid stare. “You will,” he replied shortly, if only for shortness of breath.

Will shrugged, wolfing down the remainder of his food and then watching, mouth-watering, as the Alpha finished his meal. They proceeded to talk about work, the Minnesota Shrike and his copycat. Will found the doctor quite dull, the way he attempted to draw parallels between the two of them, pretending they were alike as if he knew Will already. As if they hadn’t just met the other day. Will knew it was possible that he was simply so easy to read that the man had been able to accurately profile him after just a few short minutes, but found that idea so irritating that he preferred to owe it all to that Alpha arrogance. But as he continued to talk, the Alpha’s voice washed over his body and seeped into his skin. It was a delicious torture, edging himself just by his voice and his smell and those eyes studying him so intensely.

“You know, Will, I think Uncle Jack sees you as a fragile little teacup. The finest China used only for special guests.”

Will laughed aloud at that, sitting back in his seat and rubbing his chin. Hannibal breathed a chuckle in response, staring at Will with admiration. Gritting his teeth, Will tried to reject the idea that the man was interesting after all. But he was more interested in how he was seen through that man’s eyes. “How do you see me?”

Hannibal studied his face for an extended moment, and Will decisively held the gaze despite how it made his face twitch. “The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by,” Hannibal replied, his face devoid of expression. 

Will’s eyebrows creased, not understanding what on earth that could mean. He blinked a few times, sweat making his lids feel heavy and his fingers itch. He shifted his weight. “So,” he said, his voice becoming breathy, “wanna fuck?”

“Pardon me?” Hannibal asked with polite disbelief.

“Well, isn’t that why we’re here?” said Will, smiling an intoxicated smile. He had had enough of waiting; he was leaking onto his chair and his erection had become unbearably painful. 

“You would offer yourself to someone you’ve met only twice before?” asked Hannibal, sounding honestly more curious than judgemental. The man was a psychiatrist after all, and Freud sure did lend a thing or two to modern psychology. 

Will still had to roll his eyes a little. “It's no so much an offer as a request. I like to think of sex as an equal exchange, Doctor Lecter, not just Omegas giving themselves up for grabs.” His tone was more venomous than he intended, so he forced himself to laugh lightly afterwards, averting his eyes. “We happen to enjoy it, too, you know.”

“My apologies, Will, my phrasing was inelegant.” Hannibal peered into Will’s face, demanding his attention and taking the other man slightly by surprise. No matter how well Will was trained in the art of avoiding eye contact, Hannibal was better trained at earning it. “However, I fear if I make love to you now I will not be able to reconcile our professional relationship. Or our friendship, for that matter. It would not do.”

Will stared at him, mouth opening and closing speechlessly. “You weren’t planning on fucking me?” he asked.

Hannibal looked vaguely amused, but shook his head a fraction. “No. I’m sorry if I misled you.”

Will jumped to his feet shamelessly, heat breaking out across his skin and tainting it with a blotched blush. “Well — _fuck_. I can’t wait any longer — you have to leave.”

“Will, the suppressants will calm you any minute now —“

“So what? What’s the point of waiting it out without release?”

Hannibal surveyed him, smiling gently as if at a loved one. “Sometimes it is enough to smell fresh baked bread without taking a bite.”

“Yeah, but why wave it under my nose when I'm starving if you don't intend on letting me eat?” said Will in annoyance. He began storming to the door and heard the scrape of a chair behind him, but was still surprised when he felt a hand slip over his shoulder and around his neck, gently but swiftly forcing his head to the side. He barely had time to sink against the man before he cried out in agony. 

It was a sharp pain, warm and wet, burning where it traced the shape of the doctor’s teeth. Will felt it rip through layers of the skin and muscle of his shoulder, then tear apart from him with searing agony that buckled his already weak knees and sent him crashing to the floor. Shaking, sweating, and gasping shallowly, he reached behind with disbelief and felt warm blood on his fingers. He turned to face Hannibal, his eyes wide and horrified.

“Did you just _bite_ me?” he asked in shock.

Hannibal’s mouth was dripping bright crimson blood, his mouth closed tight and his jaw working slowly.

“Are you … _chewing_ me?” 

Hannibal took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and wiped his mouth with it. He pressed it to his lips, and swallowed with a satisfied sigh. He closed his eyes, opening his mouth and running his tongue along his bottom lip. Will scuffled and backed up into the wall, casting around for a way out, but Hannibal was standing between him and the door. The man opened his eyes again a moment later, taking a step closer to where Will lay, getting down in front of him on one knee.

“Difficult to avoid,” he defended quickly. “Your scent is absolutely divine.”

“That’s why I wanted you to fuck me … not take a chunk out of me!” Will twitched as Hannibal reached for his shoulder. He was panting, shuddering violently as he shrank away from the spatters of his own blood on the floor, and grabbed the front of Hannibal’s shirt to steady himself. Unable to determine if he intended to push the man away or pull him closer, Will quickly let go off that as well and scrabbled at his own shoulder. “Shit — does this count as marking? I mean — you tore the skin right off, but —“

“Will, you’re panicking.” Hannibal gripped Will’s head in both his hands, demanding his attention. “It was not my intention to claim you.”

“Then why’d the hell you bite me?” demanded Will, wincing as Hannibal put pressure on his wound. 

Hannibal’s lips perked up in a small smile, his dark eyes roaming over Will’s strangled face. “I was hoping to marinate you longer, but since you were so adamant on kicking me out I felt I must act quickly. I wasn’t sure when I would get another chance to enjoy you like this.” He bit his lip slightly and smiled, and Will’s eyes widened as slightly pointed incisors peeked through. “I’m a cannibal, Will.”

Will stuttered, his body trembling under Hannibal’s touch. Hannibal smiled lovingly as he watched him struggle, brushing his sweaty hair out of his face and trailing some fingers down his waist. Will glanced down and his eyes widened. A thick patch of whitish fluid was seeping through the front of his boxers — _he had come_. When? The moment he was bitten? He gasped, and unintentionally swallowed a mouthful of the Alpha’s scent, whimpering in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Do you still want me to fuck you, Will?” Hannibal asked, leaning into his neck and inhaling him deeply from his nape to just below his ear. Will’s hips bucked desperately, and he clamped his eyes shut and let out a wanting moan. His hand slipped in blood and he splayed out on the floor, staring up at Hannibal with his eyes half-closed and his chest heaving. He felt the ache inside him demanding to be filled, and he wanted it to be Hannibal.

Hannibal held himself above Will, waiting patiently for his response. His dark eyes were steady, the only clear constant as Will's vision began to blur. With a muffled sob, Will let his legs fall open.

“Good boy,” murmured Hannibal, rewarding him with a kiss on his neck. “No need to worry … I intend to savour every part of you.”


End file.
